


To Pluck A Flower (折花行)

by lonelyst8r



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, But mostly inspired by Joseon, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Inspired by Poetry, M/M, Moody Jongin, Mostly Fluff, Vaguely East Asian LOL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:42:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27620852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelyst8r/pseuds/lonelyst8r
Summary: “Very well,” he said stiffly as his throat ached with the threat of a pathetic lamentation. “If the flower is more beautiful than I,” he pursed his lips, hardening his glare. “Then hold the flower in your embrace tonight,” he finished, voice withering into a whisper.(Not really sure how to describe this fic...um poetic period fluff?)
Relationships: Kim Jongin | Kai/Oh Sehun
Comments: 9
Kudos: 20





	To Pluck A Flower (折花行)

**Author's Note:**

> I am so excited to be sharing this mini fic (?drabble?) because this is based off of one of my favorite Korean poems of the same name. Uh look forward to more poem-inspired fics honestly. Anyways, this fic isn't a translation of the original poem but the storyline and (some of) the character lines are. It's just a super cute poem so I thought it'd be fun to plunk Sekai into it. It's not realistic in terms of character interactions but it's not really meant to be, I took more of a poetic/theatric approach to this. Anyways, happy reading!

❀❀❀

A garden to walk in and immensity to dream in - what more could he ask? A few flowers at his hands and above him, the heavens. The sky, lit by the shy dawn, was clothed in silver and golden light as the drowsy sun began to peek its head over the horizon, illuminating the world in a warm glow and radiant light. The breeze was a gentle one, embracing his tanned face in a quivering grip so that the tip of his nose and his slender fingers were chilled, dusted in a hazy shade of pink. And in his hand, clutched tightly, was a peony. Its supple petals were wrought with humble pearls of dew, arching elegantly towards the sunlight in a desperate bet, it seemed, to be met with its amiable affection, its tender touch. As he bent his wrist this way and that, the sunlight extended its grip to the dew drops, twinkling shyly. A sly smile slipped onto his lips and his eyes shimmered with delight as he studied the shapely curve of the petals, the heart of ruby in the center of the peony, summery, fleshy fronds adorning it. His sleeves fluttered in the wind and he let a drowsy breath slip past his lips. Lids draped shut, he drank in the sweet air of morn, focusing on the melody of morning - the woven spring song of the doves and sparrows, accompanied by the clamor of the bees and flitting confusion of the butterflies. They sang on, only to be shortly disturbed by the sound of shuffling footsteps. And who better than he to recognize the flat-footed trudge of his love? 

A rosy flush spread across his cheeks, akin to cherry petals billowing about in the breeze. Although he had long known Sehun, his heart always pounded against his chest when he saw him - as though a thousand chariots and a myriad of horsemen were trampling on the ground. His skittish hands brought the peony up to his dusted cheeks, and a foolish smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Striding across the dirt ground with giddy footsteps, he spotted his beloved - Sehun - wearing a stoic expression, his lips twisted into a straight line, and his brows at a severe angle. 

“My dear!” Jongin called, an anticipatory lilt in his voice ever-present. The force tugging on his lips grew steadfast. Though a throbbing sensation had begun to settle in his cheek, there his smile remained.

Upon seeing the jubilant countenance of his lover, however, Sehun’s face spread into a beaming grin, eyes curved up so that their shape resembled songpyeon. His brows were at ease and the lapels of his mantle crisscrossed and tilted outwards. “I awoke this morning and saw that you had vanished, my love,” he patted Jongin’s head briefly. “I thought that you might be here, and so I came,” 

Jongin’s face was now tinged in a brilliant shade of red, eyes timidly stealing glances at Sehun. His hand remained an ardent companion of the peony, its pink petals gracing the olive tint of Jongin’s skin as he gathered his hands to his face, a feeble attempt at shrouding his flustered face. The tips of his ears had betrayed him, colored in a vivid hue of coral, so had Sehun, knowing the cheeky nature of his beloved all too well. “You should not say such things in the early morning. Who shall answer to my fluttering heart, then?” he mumbled, his eyes fixating on a grey pebble on the ground instead, though his mouth was still stretched into a generous smile. 

He grinned and brushed a delicate finger, resting it under Jongin’s chin. “Who else but me, my love?” 

He glanced up, a longing, intent gleam gracing his gentle eyes. It soon faded away, however, and in its stead - a coquettish twinkle. “Then answer me this, Lord Oh. What is more beautiful? Is it I, or the flower?”

Sehun faltered for a moment - no more than a moment - then spoke. “Why undoubtedly…” he began, voice laced with jest. Jongin’s gaze remained loyal as he stared earnestly at Sehun, whose expression became suave. “The flower is more beautiful than you, my darling,” he replied, traces of a grin creeping onto his lips. His touch was still warm on Jongin’s jaw. But at his words, Jongin’s breath hitched in his throat and he felt his heart grow troubled. He tore his head away from Sehun’s grasp, and let a crestfallen expression cross onto his face, swept in a fiery flush. His hand, embracing the stem of the peony, grew vengeful, wreaking its wrath onto the stem in a brief, ruthless series of snaps. Then he loosened his grip and set the peony free, bruised and trampled - marred in a moment of anger. Now that he had fallen into a sulk, he willed the crushing feeling in his chest down - though a pout had already fixed itself onto him, and crystalline tears had begun to pool at the corner of his eyes. 

“Very well,” he said stiffly as his throat ached with the threat of a pathetic lamentation. “If the flower is more beautiful than I,” he pursed his lips, hardening his glare. “Then hold the flower in your embrace tonight,” he finished, voice withering into a whisper. In his rage, he stamped his foot on the peony, thrusting it into the dirt. It was now nothing more than a miserable pile of green and pink, scored by the pattern on the sole of his shoes. He threw Sehun one more piercing scowl before trudging off towards the pavilion. But blossom-filled mornings by the spring pond were meant for jolly remarks, not cold ire. 

Now left alone, Sehun felt cold realization begin to seep into his bones. Panicked haste gave way to an abounding impetus to pursue Jongin, who had swiftly disappeared out of his sight, for the path ahead was obscured by the garden flora with their branches outstretched. He crossed over the wall, the silk fabric of his hanbok chafing against the stone - he paid it no heed, and strode across the garden, past the pink peony bushes, towering pine trees, and trim barberry shrubs. Soon, he found himself standing a mere few feet away from the pavilion. Under the curved tiled roof, painted in glorious hues of turquoise and jade, stood Jongin, his arms folded together. Sehun stared distantly at his frail silhouette as he looked over the pond where the lotus blossoms had bloomed. Though the day was young, the nearing summer brought with it the promise of balmy morning air, and under the cloaked warmth of the sunlight, the lotus flowers splayed themselves out, a delicate visage adorning the flat beds of the lotus leaves with tinges of lucid pink frolicking about the fleshy white body of the petals. A single hand rested on one of the red columns, housed by the dancing patterns of flowers - red and blue - draped along the eaves of the roof. A sigh of relief escaped his lips, though a perplexing matter now struck him. Setting aside his apprehensions, he slinked along on his tentative feet.

“Your presence is made much too obvious by your horrid shuffling, Lord Oh,” he said stilly.

Sehun exhaled softly, weary shoulders sagging down in both relief and exasperation. “My sweet -” he began, but he was not given the opportunity to spend a single breath more. 

“If you would please…” he strained out, his voice was rigid, and there were remnants of bitterness that stained his tone - as if the cruel winter had never gone. He was stuck between the thresholds of his own fury and his chagrin, entangled in a web of his own doing. 

“My love,” Sehun repeated. His convictions, of course, were - and had been - fixed on Jongin. Jongin knew too, that, for all his grievances, Sehun would remain until Jongin was swayed, and they could return to their usual affairs. For now, it was obstinacy, and it would become perseverance when Jongin decided it was. Still, the fight was not yet over, for Jongin was a man of pride, perhaps to his detriment.

“Lord Oh,” he replied coolly, turning his head towards the column so that his face was obscured from Sehun’s prying gaze. Sehun bounded towards him, and a familiar hand now rested on his waist, the heat emanating from it might’ve been an otherwise welcome sensation if not for their current predicament. He writhed away from Sehun’s touch. “Your advancements are not welcome,” he spat as he harshened the angle of his head, shoulders scrunched together as though he were a startled cat with its fur erect.

Sehun’s lips parted, and a furrow traveled across his angled brows before he let out a soft sigh, but despite its timidity, it seemed to disturb the tender tranquility of the morning in all its harrowing anguish. “If that is what my love desires, then I shall fulfill his wish,” he pursed his lips and drew himself away, shedding his hands from the sweeping curve of Jongin’s waist, then he let his arms return to their place of rest. Once again, it seemed that Sehun’s words could only bring distress to Jongin. His fingers trembled, and his chest was weighed down by a yearning ache. But now, there was no grasp to tear himself away from, for he had bid that grasp - that pacifying touch - farewell. He commanded himself to remain still, but as Sehun’s footsteps drew farther and farther, he could not help but turn around. 

Upon locking gazes with his husband, Sehun saw his jade countenance was sad and crisscrossed with tears, like a pear blossom bathed in springtime rain. His delicate brows, resembling the feathery fronds of a moth, were now crumpled, and void of joy. Tracks of tears tarnished the face that could put shame to flowers, whether pear blossoms bathed in springtime rain or peonies wrought with humble drops of dew. Sehun longed to have him in his embrace, to feel the warmth of his body and the grip of his fingers on his shoulders. Unspeakable urges and unknown forces compelled the two to hasten towards each other. At long last, Jongin found himself swallowed whole in the arms he called home. He let a few dewy tears slip past his eyes, marked by the blotches of darker fabric on the breast of Sehun’s mantle. A placid kiss was pressed to his hair, and his back was consoled by an intimate hand. For some moments, whether those moments lasted mere seconds or endless centuries, all was well, and there was only the scent of heady lotus blossoms, fond kisses, and flushed touches to be relished in. 

“It was mere jest, was it not?” he murmured, hushed tones in the fear that Sehun would hear, though there was no one else to receive his remark. His face was roused in heat, and his cheeks reddened, like a weeping maple tree swept by autumn fire. 

Sehun fixed a fond smile on his face. “There exists no such flower that could even dream of vying towards your beauty, my dear,” They split from each other, earnest eyes wandering here and there for some moments. Sehun planted his hand on Jongin’s cheek, caressing the tear stains on his face. Jongin held his breath, staring longingly at the doting expression Sehun wore, the endless warmth in his eyes of brown, enwrought with fleeting, golden specks of sunlight. Jongin’s eyes flickered downwards and he shifted his head so that one cheek was embraced fully by Sehun’s left hand. 

He looked up at him demurely, lashes flapping like butterfly wings. “I beg you, forgive me,” he rested his hand on top of Sehun's, appended to his cheek. 

Sehun smiled faintly and caressed Jongin’s cheek with his thumb, feeling supple, unblemished flesh under his fingers. “What is there to forgive?” he pressed a tender peck to Jongin’s forehead, lips feeling oddly bare when they finally departed. “No circumstances could ever bring me to harbor anger towards you, much less loathe you, my dearest,” 

Jongin hummed in response, comfort blooming within him as he leaned into the broad warmth of Sehun’s firm chest. “Do you recall the promises we made to one another our wedding night, my love?” he pulled away momentarily, doe eyes meeting Sehun’s. 

“Even the force of all the universe’s mountains could not -” began Sehun.

Jongin giggled. “How sappy of you,” he remarked sardonically, fingers brushing across Sehun’s lips, though a blush had found its way to his cheeks. He beamed, burying his head into the crook of Sehun’s neck and letting the skin of his cheek revel against the smooth of the silk lapel. “Surely you must be a poet and not a lord?”

Sehun grinned, bending down to nuzzle his nose against Jongin’s. “...I swore that I would love you without cease, without worry of time and separation. In the heavens, we would be as two birds flying wingtip to wingtip, and on earth, we would be as two intertwined branches of a tree,” he paused for a brief moment. “But if I were a poet, I could not gift you peonies bushes, my sweet,” he brought up Jongin’s hand to press a chaste kiss to it. “Then I could not hold you in my arms like this, nor kiss your tears away,”

“Hush now,” he chided, though there was no bite in his voice as his laughter rang, pure. A garden to walk in and a lover to embrace, a few flowers at his feet and enveloping him, the heavens.

❀❀❀

**Author's Note:**

> Plugging myself [here](https://twitter.com/lonelyst8r) (my Twitter) and [here](https://curiouscat.me/lonelyst8r) (CuriousCat) :D Let's scream about Sekai together, Or you can ask me questions about my fics! As always, comments and kudos are much appreciated ^^


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